


Cause or Effect

by lexi_con



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Anal Sex, Crush at First Sight, M/M, Pining, Secret Crush, Switching, The Awful Tie is Viktor's bane, blowjob, glasses fetish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 05:44:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9164689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexi_con/pseuds/lexi_con
Summary: Chris threatens him that he's growing into an old man, and Viktor can't refuse the invitation without confirming the slander. He let's himself get dragged to a stripclub, set on drinking himself into a stupor in revenge. Though as it turns out the dancer is really hot, and despite the awful tie, Viktor really wants to bang Yuuri.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoy this stripper au that probably has been done 100 times already!  
>  Hit me up on twitter @TheLexiSama if you wanna talk the Viktuuri goodness

“Come out with me tonight, Viktor. Staying inside speeds up the process of balding.”

Viktor wasn’t  _ that _ worried about growing bald, he was only 25 after all. 

But Chris was right, he needed to get out more, instead of burying himself in paperwork and meetings every day. He should have understood Chris didn’t mean  _ go out _ as a simple night getting smashed at a bar. 

It meant getting smashed in a  _ club _ and emptying their wallets of physical cash to throw at scantily clad dancers on glittering stages. 

Chris had taken him to a stripclub, and Viktor shouldn’t have been surprised. 

“I thought you had a girlfriend,” Viktor sighed as he let himself get dragged to the frontdoor by his friend. 

“I do,” Chris grinned, a pink, sparkly card in hand, “she owns the place.”

Again, Viktor shouldn’t be surprised as the guard at the door greets Chris welcome by name. 

“She prefers me spending money on her kids rather than on gifts for her,” Chris explained as they went inside. Viktor didn’t want to know why Chris, or his girlfriend for that matter, referred to the employees as  _ kids _ . 

The air inside was hot, damp with excitement and the humidity from smoke machines, and  _ loud _ . Music was playing from speakers all over the establishment, and people cheered and drank as dancers spun on poles and grinded against especially generous customers. Viktor couldn't help but notice that all dancers were male, and that the crowd was an even mix of men and women. 

The largest stage in the middle of the hall was empty, but the rest of the smaller ones were occupied by dancers and their eager audience. Chris didn’t steer them to any of the spectator seats though, instead heading for the bar, which was slightly cut off from the noise and buzz of the main hall by pillars. Viktor was silently glad for the lessened volume and he had to mentally kick himself for being such an old soul. 

The barkeep lit up when they set eyes on Chris, and they happily greeted him. 

“Hey there Yuuko,” Chris smiled and leaned against the black stone counter, “is my darling in?”

“Minako is in the back, getting the main event ready,” Yuuko shook her head, “do you want me to call her?” 

“No, thanks, she’s probably busy,” Chris smiled, a rare fondness in his eyes, “just tell her I brought my friend and wanted to introduce them when she has the time.”

Yuuko’s eyes slid over to Viktor, and she gasped quietly. “Oh, he’s very handsome,” she says it under her breath, but Viktor hears it, only flashing the bartender a pleasant smile as answer, “Welcome to EroMai, Mr…”

“Viktor Nikiforov,” Viktor fills in. 

“Mr Nikiforov! Please, allow me to offer you a drink in celebration of your first visit,” Yuuko offers, “any request?”

Viktor contemplates for a second. 

“Something with vodka,” he says, ignoring Chris’ amused huff, “and no Bloody Mary.”

“Would a Heaven’s Touch suit your tastes? It’s a custom drink made on fruit liqueurs and vodka,” Yuuko suggested, gesturing to a blackboard set on the shelves of basic drinks. There he could also see the different pricings, but that wasn’t anything he had to worry about. After all, his favourite restaurant was the kind that didn’t even have prices on their wares. 

“That’s fine,” Viktor said and leaned against the counter, looking out over the hall that functioned as both a grandstand and dancefloor. Some were being very generous with their cash, snapping entire bundles under the elastics of the stripper’s showwear. Needless to say, those particular customers was getting some  _ really _ enthusiastic attention from the dancers. Viktor shook his head in small motions, he didn’t see the appeal of having some stranger grinding on one’s crotch in exchange for money. 

Then again, Viktor had never experienced anyone grinding on him who  _ didn’t _ want something material in exchange. Might be why he had never visited this kind of place; he had no shortage of the same experience should he seek it elsewhere. 

Viktor starts when the sound of glass hitting stone reaches his ear and he turns back to the bartender to see a tall glass filled with a drink in sundown colours in front of him. 

“Here you go, Mr Nikiforov,” Yuuko smiled, adding a small straw to the drink, perfecting it to Viktor’s tastes, “please enjoy your evening, the show will begin in a few minutes.” 

Viktor nods in thanks, bringing the drink up to his lips and tasting it with a small sip. Damn, yeah that was a  _ lot _ of vodka. Nothing Viktor couldn’t handle though, being Russian and all that. 

“Thanks Yuuko,” Chris said and raised the delicate martini glass he had in his hand in thanks, “let’s go Viktor, we gotta get some good seats. Tonight is a special event.”

Viktor obeyed, if only to keep the blond placated and quiet. 

“I just  _ love _ this show! It makes me wanna get up and dance myself!” Chris smiles as he walks past two buff men guarding a large, curved sofa right in front of the stage. Viktor assumed this must be some kind of VIP seat, since it was empty while the area outside the railing surrounding the couch was filling with people. 

Viktor grimaced at the feeling of the sofa’s stiff leather when he sat down. It was probably made of such a sturdy material to be easy to clean after too much excitement, but Viktor only felt clammy. They had only sat down for a moment when an entire entourage entered the VIP area, headed by a figure Viktor recognized, but couldn’t name. By his side was a beautiful black haired woman, and followed by several young men who Viktor was surprised were even allowed into the club. 

“Oh, Jean-Jacques!” Chris gasped, his tone fakely delighted, “what a surprise to see you here, and Isabella too!”

Viktor was thankful for Chris’ outburst, Jean-Jacques was son to one of the trade partners to Viktor’s company, it wouldn’t have been good to not recognize him. Honestly, Viktor was  _ so _ ill suited for being CEO, his memory wasn’t exactly his best quality. He supposed that’s why he had Chris. 

“Hey there, Christopher, and Mr Nikiforov too!” Isabella answered gleefully, sitting down next to Chris quickly. 

“What are you doing here? Looking for a little inspiration for decorating your new penthouse?” Chris asked, discreetly nudging Viktor with his elbow to make him at least seem sociable. 

How did Chris even know they had a penthouse? 

“Non,” Jean-Jacques shook his head with a toothy grin, “we’re here to show the local entertainment to our guests.”

The Canadian man swept with his hand towards the three men sitting on the opposite end of the couch from Viktor, two of them seeming  _ very _ uncomfortable while the third was snapping photos with his phone. 

“That, and my lovely bride-to-be has a bit of a crush on tonight’s star,” Jean-Jacques wrapped his arm around Isabella who laughed and blushed a little. 

“Silly! He’s got nothing on you!” she giggled, an intimate hand on her fiance’s thigh. Viktor might’ve gagged if he had been less mature. Didn’t stop him from discreetly rolling his eyes though. 

Viktor shouldn’t be this bitter, but his mood hadn’t been on the plus side since this morning, and he just wanted to go home to his dog. Call him old, but he hadn’t enjoyed a party since he was a teenager. He doubted tonight would be any different, and was about to commit himself to a promise to drink so much Chris would have to carry him out as way of revenge. He had no high hopes for the show coming up, expecting it to be the same old usual; the kind of dancing he could see in every other American movie. What could even be so damn great about this particular dancer that a betrothed couple would go watch him a Friday evening as way of entertainment?

Suddenly the lights dimmed, and the guests volume lowered to a quiet buzz. The music blaring out of the speakers also lowered, dissipating into silence a second later. 

“It’s starting!” Chris positively bounced in his seat, slapping Viktor’s knee in excitement. Viktor merely sighed and took a loooong sip of his drink, sitting back against the sofa. 

Spotlights scanned over the crowd, and when a instrumental tune started playing the people cheered. 

“A new show!” Viktor heard Isabella gasp in delight. 

The spotlights stilled their searching, stopping at an anonymous figure emerging from the drapery at the back of the large hall. Viktor couldn’t see much detail, but he could see it was a man dressed in a suit and had styled messy hair falling over his face. He looked out of place, glancing at the audience, seemingly frozen in nervousness. At first Viktor thought the man had mistakenly gotten up on stage somehow, but instead of scrambling to get down he started walking forward, looking every bit intimidated anyone who didn’t belong on such a stage would. He crossed the catwalk to the stage rather quickly, wrapping his hand around the pole in the middle, looking around. He walked a slow circle around the pole, and Viktor noticed how his hips were swaying, in a way that was definitively seductive, but Viktor wasn’t very impressed. As the dancer walked in his circle Viktor could see his face, and while he was cute, with round cheeks and large, expressive eyes, he wasn’t anything special. 

That is until he stopped, and his eyes locked with Viktor’s. 

Air wasn't important anymore, not when the lights flared just as the timid dancer’s lips stretched into a sinful smirk. A smirk directed at Viktor. 

The music gained a heavy bass, and Viktor blamed the shiver running down his spine on the tremble. The dancer narrowed his eyes to a sultry look, and bit his lip as he grabbed the pole, swinging up against it, going up in a upside down handstand, to the crowd’s delight. Viktor watched in awe how the man just kept on spinning, changing his position to eventually slide down to the floor in a perfect split. He turned towards the VIP area as he moved his legs in a fan arc before getting up, showing off his round ass. 

Viktor’s throat became uncomfortably dry. 

Bills were raining down on the stage, but Viktor only noticed because the dancer was showing his appreciation by slowly dropping his jacket down his arms. His shirt strained over his chest as he slid it off, and Viktor caught himself looking for the faintest trace of a perked nipple under the white cotton. He didn’t have a chance to discern it though, since the dancer let his jacket fall to the floor, running back to the pole and lifting himself, his legs and back arching in a way that made the crowd go wild. Viktor’s hands clenched the glass in his hands to near breaking point when the dancer turned himself upside down again, letting his legs fall open. 

“He’s good, isn’t he?” Chris whispered against Viktor’s ear, making the grey haired man start. 

He’d been watching so intently he had forgotten there were any others in the room. To be completely honest, Viktor wanted to forget it again. 

“I know you don't carry much cash, so here,” Viktor felt something crunchy get stuffed into his hand, “you can thank me later.”

Viktor knows it’s money, but he feels it’s too awkward to just throw it up there, especially when he can’t be sure if the dancer would even see that it came from him. 

However, he didn't have to think much about it. 

The dancer paraded forward, and Viktor stopped breathing when he nudged his belt open, teasing for just a second before he pulled it out of its loops. Viktor waited for the seductive man to flip his pants open, but instead he turned around, his hands slapping his ass as he moved it in circles, fingers splaying over the round cheeks. 

Viktor imagines how it’d feel to do the same with his own hands. 

The dancer beckons the crowd, teasing the hem of his pants with his thumbs, grinding his back and ass against the pole. More money rain down on the stage, Viktor catches Isabella throwing an entire bundle onto the stage and the dancer’s eyes widens momentarily, until he regains his composure and smiles. 

Viktor’s cheeks  _ burns _ when he realizes he wants that smile directed at  _ him _ . 

For the moment though, he’s satisfied to see the dancer’s hips swaying enticingly as he walked forward towards the VIP couch. He cocked his hips, tilting his head, and Isabella twirled her finger, and with a smile the dancer turned, opening his pants. Slowly,  _ agonizingly slowly _ , he pulled down his pants, his swaying behind spellbinding Viktor like nothing else. 

When the pants dropped to the floor and the stripper stepped out of them Viktor’s jaw slacked. 

Instead of ordinary underwear like boxers or briefs the man was wearing  _ lace _ . Still in the hipster model, but the undergarment left barely anything to the imagination. Viktor thought he was having a heart attack when he saw the crease of the dancer’s ass spread  _ just right _ as he went back to the pole under the wild cheers of the crowd. 

If the precious part of the show was seductive, now it was outright  _ sinful _ . 

The dancer wrapped his legs around the pole, spinning slowly as he leaned back, tie falling over his shoulder, his hands popping the buttons on his shirt to reveal a toned chest and stomach. Viktor might have whined when brown eyes met his once more as the dancer pushed his hair into a backslick. Again, the brief moment of absolutely  _ overwhelming  _ heat ended far too quickly as the dancer used his ab muscles to rise and grab the pole again. His shirt was falling open to show his pleasing physique, and Viktor licked his lips at the display. 

But the show wasn't finished yet, and the dancer made sure that the crowd knew. He climbed high up on the pole, his legs spread and back arched as he threw his head back, eyes closed as he renewed his grip on the pole with one hand under his ass,  _ grinding _ his crotch and ass against the pole. Viktor moaned when he imagined  _ himself _ as the one to make the beautiful man wear such a blissful, breathless expression. 

The dancer slid down to the ground again, but stayed glued to the pole, as if it was a possessive lover, as if  _ he  _ was a possessive lover, his hard cock becoming prominent in the lacy underwear. Despite that he still clasped his legs around the pole, this time facing outward as he spun, one hand tracing down his body, undoubtedly in the same way all the people in the room wanted to. As if aware of how agitated it made Viktor, the dancer took a new grip and split his legs open in a perfectly straight, vertical line, showing off just how  _ hard _ he was. 

As he slid down to the floor, still spinning though and still one foot in the air, the dancer beckoned against the audience, reminding them all how they  _ could not have him _ , Viktor in particular. 

_ I want him.  _

The song was reaching a crescendo as the stripper jumped up again, spreading his legs and arching his back in a flurry of movements driving the crowd wild. Viktor didn’t even notice how the rest of his company in the VIP lounge was standing, cheering and throwing money as if it was their last night alive. Viktor was too engulfed in  _ watching _ , his eyes following every hard grind of hips and every desperate gasp for air, wishing to see it all up close, in a more private setting.

The dancer slides down and lands on the floor, legs spread around the pole and head thrown back in a beautiful arch as the music stops and glitter falls from the ceiling, landing on the heaving stripper along with an abundance of bills. A new song starts up, and other men walk out onto the stage from behind the velvet drapes in the back of the room, joining the exhausted stripper on stage as he uses the pole to pull himself up on his feet. They help collect the money scattered around the stage, the task disguised as further entertainment as they crawl around the stage in seductive manner. Viktor doesn’t care though, all he cares about is how the main event didn’t retreat to the back of the room, but instead walked forward, finding a staircase on the right side of the VIP lounge to the stage. 

The music playing now was a less upbeat, heavier song, and the dancer took advantage of this, his smile sultry as he swayed his hips to the beat of the bass. He first approached one of the guests of Jean-Jacques—the kid with the phone—laughing and sitting down in a fluid motion onto the man’s lap, pressing their cheeks together as the dark man snapped a selfie of them. When the picture was taken the dancer barely held in another laugh as he fixed the youth’s tie, exchanging a few quick words before he moved on. 

The other two guests still looked awkward and out of place, but the dancer still took his time with them. He stroke their cheeks, leaning down to whisper something to them, leaving them both blushing and looking in awe at the dancer as he moved on. 

“Finally!” Isabella squealed and pulled out even more money from her purse, boldly slipping it between the hem of the dancer’s underwear and skin. With a seductive smile the stripper turned around, moving his ass in round shapes, jutting it in the woman’s direction, inviting her to touch. She does, her hands following the motions of the dancer’s hips. She slapped the strong thighs in front of her and the dancer yelped, but didn’t protest, instead he looked back, biting his lip at her. How anyone could behave that way with their fiance next to them was truly a remarkable question. Jean-Jacques merely laughed delightedly, waving the dancer on when it was his turn to receive special attention. Instead, he left the area with his fiance, probably to go look for something to drink. Viktor didn’t care. 

What he cared about was that it was nearly his turn. 

But first— _ urgh _ —Chris. 

“You were amazing,” Chris smiled as he pulled the dancer closer, the money in his hands also finding itself a place in the hemline of the dancer's underwear. 

“Thank you,” the dancer says, and Viktor’s pants get  _ very  _ tight. He hadn’t been soft before, but  _ hearing  _ the breathless stripper’s voice was like putting a final nail in a coffin. 

“Come here,” Chris beckons, pulling the dancer close, “give me a little show.”

The dancer obeys without question, his hips swaying, knees bending, and Viktor watches hungrily as the dancer falls to his knees, he’s leaning back, showing of his toned torso and hardon, thrusting his pelvis in time with the slow beat of the music. He then crawls forward, climbing up into Chris lap, grinding their chests together as he fully settles. Viktor watched with a burning throat as Chris’ hands unabashedly cupped around the dancer’s ass, pulling him closer still. 

“Wow, easy there,” Chris interrupts Viktor’s dark thoughts, “if you don’t stop I might get some crazy ideas.”

The dancer leaned away, surprise on his face, but then understanding dawned on him and he smiled seductively as he trailed a finger along Chris’ stubbly jaw. 

“I guess I better keep it a secret from Minako,” the dancer said teasingly, and Viktor was entirely lost in the conversation. 

“No need, she’s gonna be proud when I tell her,” Chris smiled before he pushed the dancer away gently, “good luck with this one here, though.” 

Chris stood, leaving the area like the rest of the VIP guests, leaving Viktor like a sitting duck as the dancer turned to him. 

Brown eyes became hooded, and a confident smirk played on his lips as the dancer approached Viktor. 

“It’s your first time here?” he asked, and Viktor can only nod, his words failing him. The dancer stepped forward, his hand coming up to grab Viktor’s chin gently, sending a wave of desperation through him, “then I’ll give you a  _ special _ service.”

Again, Viktor thinks he whines, but he isn't sure, doesn’t care to try and sort it out when the dancer loosens his own tie, pulling the god awful blue fabric off and around Viktor’s neck. Then the dancer climbs into Viktor’s lap, and when his hips started swaying he thought he was getting the same as Chris, but then the beautiful,  _ seductive _ man  _ grinds _ against Viktor. 

Viktor’s hands fly up, hanging awkwardly in the air above the stripper’s thighs, unsure if he wants to stop the ass grinding on his stiff cock or grind it  _ harder _ . 

“You know, when I saw you from the stage, you seemed pretty miserable,” the dancer said, his tone just a little shaky and  _ very _ aroused, “I’m glad I could change that.”

Viktor’s eyes clenched shut, because if he looked any longer at this beautiful creature in his lap he would do something stupid. He wanted to tell the amazing seductor grinding on him how  _ desperately _ Viktor wanted him, how much he would give for a room, alone and away from the noise of the club. But words didn’t form on his tongue, instead he opened his eyes, hoping that he could convey what he felt with his gaze alone even as his hands trembled like leaves as they hovered over the hot skin of the dancer. The tie around his neck tightened in answer, drawing him forward, and he almost expected his lips to collide with the shining ones in front of him, but instead the dancer tilted his head, his hot breath fanning over Viktor’s ear;

“Do you want to fuck me?” 

Viktor positively  _ whimpered _ as his palms finally settled on sweaty skin, but he was barely allowed to register the feeling of it before it was gone, just like the heavy panting over his ear and neck. 

Lost and cold, Viktor’s body automatically leaned forward, trying to find the steady, hot sensations again, but in vain, the dancer was already off his lap, collecting the money from his underwear. 

“Please, come back again,” the dancer said, his face somehow redder than before he had sat down on Viktor’s lap. 

Viktor is left with unsatisfied desire as he watched the stripper walk away, climbing up to the stage and to backstage in a hurry. Viktor wants to call him back, or follow him, he doesn’t really know. No, wait, the sly, inquisitive look that the dancer throws him before disappearing behind the drapery  _ definitively _ makes him want to break all regulations and follow. 

Viktor only realized too late that the bunch of money he had gotten earlier laid awkwardly next to him on the sofa. Even worse; had he given them he might have been allowed more than a  _ tease _ . 

Groaning, Viktor rubs his hands over his face, trying to think of anything  _ but _ the burning disappointment and hornyness in his lower abdomen. 

With a sigh, Viktor grabbed the glass with his drink that he hadn't remembered putting on the table next to the couch, chugging the entire thing in a few gulps. The alcohol and sugar rushed his system, and he got a little light headed, but nothing too bad as he could stand up without wobbling. Thankfully, his suit jacket was long enough to at least cover his still half-hard member, and the dim lights helped even further. 

Viktor had no idea what to do now; he had been left wanting and alone. Going home unsatisfied was a foreign feeling to him, and he was sure he didn’t like it. Damn Chris for bringing him here. 

Oh yeah, Chris. 

Viktor had no idea where his partner in business and crime had gone, so he decided to return to the bar and  _ hope _ Chris would be there as well. 

And he was, only not the slight bit concerned that he had left Viktor to the wind, instead focusing his love and attention on a swooning woman in his arms. 

“Mr. Nikiforov, did you enjoy the show?” Yuuko, who was calmly polishing a crystalline glass behind the counter, asked. The comment caught Chris attention, and he turned around, his face uncharacteristically happy. 

“Viktor! How’s life treating you?” Chris positively  _ beamed _ . 

“Terribly,” was Viktor’s answer to both questions before he turned to Yuuko, “give me something...no, never mind, give me vodka.”

“That bad?” Chris gasped, scandalized, “I thought you enjoyed it!” 

Viktor decides not to answer as he grabs the glass Yuuko puts in front of him, and swipes the whole thing in a heartbeat. 

“Mind introducing us, darling?” Viktor hears a feminine tenor and turns after he swallowed the burn in his throat. He sees a beautiful woman with long, silky brown hair and an authentic beauty mark on her cheek, with Chris’ arm around her waist. 

“Why of course, Viktor, this is my girlfriend, Minako,” Chris says proudly, his fingers rubbing intimately over her hip, “Minako, this is my boss and friend, Viktor.”

“Nice to meet you, Viktor,” Minako offers her hand, and Viktor takes it in a light shake.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Viktor says with a smile, but it falters when the woman’s intense gaze rakes over his body. 

“Did you enjoy the show?” she asks the same question as the barkeep. 

“Of course,” Viktor tightens his grip on the glass in his hand, untimely reminded of the desire he was trying to forget. The  _ eyes _ and  _ thighs _ and  _ voice _ he was trying to forget. 

_ “Do you want to fuck me?” _

Viktor thinks he heard the glass chink in his hand, and he stiffly set his hand down next to his side. 

“Wonderful,” Minako says and nudges her boyfriend with her hip, gesturing forward with her chin, “however, it seems we have a little problem.”

Chris raises an eyebrow before looking at Viktor, his eyes widening after a fraction of a second. The surprise is short lived though as he smiled and whispered something to his girlfriend who kept her expression carefully blank. When he was done she nodded slowly before reaching out, and Viktor thought she was going to grab him, but instead she lifted something off his shoulder, dragging it off him. 

“It seems my star forgot a little something,” Minako said, holding a blue, awful tie. Of course, Viktor recognized it immediately. His neck tingled when he thought of how the dancer had pulled him close with it. 

“Would you mind returning it to him?” Viktor blinks at first, wondering what the beautiful woman meant, but the plotting light in her eyes told Viktor everything he needed to know. 

She was, as owner of the club and effectively boss over all the employees, granting Viktor permission to meet with the star of the club once more. 

In private. 

_ Alone.  _

Viktor would have been embarrassed about how quickly he snatches the tie back, but the alcohol in his veins leaves no room for it. 

“I could do that,” he says, breathless. 

Minako smiles satisfactorily and motions towards the end of the bardisk, “go through there, show the guard the tie and tell him I said it was ok.”

Viktor nods and ignores Chris’ toothy grin as he walks past the pair. He was sure he would hear about this on Monday, but Viktor cares little for it, he could handle a bit of poking fun at his desperation if it means that desperation is sated. 

Viktor sees the black door that says Staff Only, and pushes it open without much remorse. Inside a man sits on a chair, checking his phone before he looks up, his face neutral until he realizes Viktor is no ordinary bypasser. The guard stands, and Viktor has to marvel at how wide the man is. He’s not taller than Viktor, but his shoulders, hips and even nose are so wide he almost takes up all of the corridor leading on in an arc around the main hall. In here the music is only a hum, the only trace of a party being the heavy bass making the walls tremble slightly. 

“Didn’t you see the sign? Staff only,” the guard says, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Minako sent me to return this,” Viktor held up the blue, still awful, tie for the other man to see. 

The guard eyes it suspiciously, his gaze hard. He seems to  _ want _ to refuse, but sighs with finality and steps aside to let Viktor past, “he’s in the room with a gold star on the door, to the left.”

Viktor nods and hurries down the corridor. He almost feels dizzy as he passes identical doors in the warped space, but also squeals in delight when he finds the door with a star in shiny gold screwed to it. 

Viktor eagerly knocks, his heart beating harder with each passing second. He doesn’t know how long he stands there, but he starts frowning when no answer comes to his third knock. Since he  _ technically _ had permission from Minako, Viktor tried the handle and opens the door slightly, peeking inside to see that the room was empty. Huffing, Viktor goes inside to wait. He had been promised an audience with his mysterious seductor, and he wasn’t going to leave until he got it. 

The room was sparingly furnitured with a soft couch, a full body mirror and a vanity table. The chair in front of the vanity was the only thing cluing Viktor in that the star of the night hadn’t left yet, as both a jacket and bag hung on the back of it along with other articles of clothing. 

Viktor took a seat in the couch after he takes of his suit jacket, his fingers anxiously fiddling with the fabric of the Terrible Tie. How Minako let her strippers wear such tacky clothing was beyond Viktor, until he remembered that being tacky and sexy was basically the job description. Come to think of it, Viktor didn't really see why anyone would want to work as a sensual dancer in the first place, unless they were an exhibitionist. 

He might like that, now that he thinks about it. 

Viktor barely has time to imagine just how he’d like to play with the beautiful dancer in risky places before the door handle clicks and the door opens. 

The world seems to move in slow motion as Viktor turns his eyes towards the door, meeting with white, fluffy material wrapped around a body that was uncharacteristically curvy for a male. His gaze flickered higher, to the shocked, round face of the man who had enticed Viktor so. Dark locks were wet, droplets still falling from the tips and  _ dear lord _ he was wearing glasses. 

Viktor was glad he wasn’t hard, or else he would have cummed at the sight in front of him. He always had a weakness for glasses. 

“Wha—,” the dancer clamps his hanging mouth shut, wide eyes looking at Viktor as if he was an apparition, “w-why are  _ you _ here?”

Viktor is confused by the disbelief on the other’s face, but he decides to ride on his own wave of confidence. He holds up the Terrible Tie and takes a step closer to the other after he stands. 

“I came to return this,” Viktor smiles as the door falls shut behind the other, pleased with how he wasn’t looking or backing away,  “and to answer your question.” 

The stripper is briefly confounded, but then his cheeks flush a pretty red, making Viktor’s heart hurt with how  _ pretty _ it is. Without a word Viktor gently lays the tie around the dancer’s neck, but instead of dropping his hands down he reaches to lift the other’s chin, tracing a soft lip with the pad of his thumb. 

“My answer,” he purrs, reveling in the shine of hope in the brown orbs he’s staring into, “is yes.”

“Oh,” the dancer breathes, eyes falling to Viktor’s lips, “that’s...nice.”

Viktor can’t help but chuckle as he sets a hand on the other’s hip, “I think so too.” 

The fine hairs all over Viktor’s body stands on full attention when supple hands creeps up his front to close together behind his neck, pulling him down into a kiss. When their lips meet Viktor breathes in sharply, the velvety feeling completely new to him. He’d ever only tasted chapped mouths, or ones covered in colour, so the feeling of such softness against his lips was completely new. And the  _ tenderness _ ; his mouth being massaged and nipped at as if he was a precious lover, leaving his head woozy and mind disoriented. He feels a wet test against the seam of his lips, and he gratefully meets the inquiring tongue with his own, his entire palate tingling with the sensation of the other’s tongue gently pressing and gliding against his. Fingers dig into the short hairs at his nape, and Viktor moans when the dancer tilts his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue still gently but boldly fucks into Viktor’s mouth. He lets it happen, body shivering in time with the lazy thrusts until the warm, wet appendage leaves his mouth without warning. Viktor greedily chases after, the tip of his tongue tasting faint traces of mint as he returns the favour. The dancer’s tongue meets his as Viktor presses their lips harder together, almost bending the other backwards as he desperately fuck his tongue into the other’s mouth like he wants to fuck him  _ for real _ . 

Viktor didn’t know when he had done it, but his arms were wrapped around the other, so he hugged him close, pressing their bodies flush against each other. The hum of approval vibrating against his lips made him moan, and he can feel the other’s hard cock pressing against his thigh through the fabric of the bathrobe. 

Out of breath, and dangerously close to losing all logic, Viktor breaks the kiss with a gasp. The displeased whine from the dancer has him smiling, so he gives a quick peck before he leans away and opens his eyes, meeting impatient brown. 

“What’s your name?” he asks, their lips a mere breath apart, hoping the question won’t turn the air awkward. 

“Yuuri,” the dancer sighs, standing up on his tippy toes to kiss Viktor again. 

_ Yuuri _ . 

It fits him so well, somehow. Viktor thinks it’s a wonderful name, and he hopes it’s the man’s real one. It rolls easy on his tongue, falling into the other’s mouth as they kiss. Viktor’s hands slide down, elated by the shiver he feels under his fingertips as he brushes them over the small of Yuuri’s back. He cups round, firm ass cheeks, squeezing and rubbing them with abandon. Yuuri moans in response, grinding his ass back, encouraging. 

Viktor could have been satisfied with this, having Yuuri’s taste on his tongue and his hands spread over full flesh, but Yuuri wasn’t. He pushed at Viktor, making them take small steps backwards, until Viktor’s calves hit the sofa. They fell down, Yuuri only because Viktor refused to let him go. 

Yuuri places his hands on each side of Viktor’s head, giving him a deep kiss that was meant to  calm him, but it only made Viktor want to roughly drag Yuuri back to his lap. 

“What do I call you?” Yuuri asks then, and Viktor blinks dreamily, temporarily unable to form any other thought than  _ I want you. _

“Viktor...call me Viktor,” he said, and Yuuri looks flattered as he smiles. 

“Viktor.”

It’s like an angel choir descends and sings his name, but it’s only Yuuri here with him, and Viktor want to hear it  _ again.  _

He doesn’t beg though, and so Yuuri has no idea what he has done. It doesn’t matter though, because Yuuri continues to decimate any kind of dignity Viktor has when he drops to his knees between Viktor’s legs. A stuttering groan escapes between his kiss-swollen lips when Yuuri’s hands work on his belt and zipper. Viktor isn't fully hard yet, but it’s still a relief when his pants are pushed down. Before he can get rid of his underwear though Yuuri moves to take off his glasses and Viktor grabs his wrist in a hurry. Big, brown eyes blink up at him innocently, quietly questioning what was wrong. 

“Don’t take them off,” Viktor asks breathily, and Yuuri’s long lashes lowers into a seductive, half lidded expression. 

“Do you like glasses?” he asks, pushing the blue frames onto his nose again. 

“ _ Yes _ ,” Viktor hisses, combing his hand through Yuuri’s hair, brushing it out of the way so he can fully appreciate the accessory accenting Yuuri’s face beautifully. 

Yuuri hums in understanding, then he leans forward, joining his hands at the hem of Viktor’s boxers. His lips kiss as if they burn Viktor’s skin, making his abdominal muscles clench with every light touch. Yuuri’s fingers tease under Viktor’s shirt, and he drags his nails over the skin, making Viktor jerk his hips forward, seeking more of the attention.

“Yuuri, oh,  _ Yuuri _ ,” Viktor sighs, his head rolling back to rest against the sofa. He grinds his hips as Yuuri kisses the covered head of his cock, the ministration slowly turning more and more openmouthed, until Viktor isn’t sure if the stain on his underwear is Yuuri’s saliva or his own precum. Yuuri sucks through the fabric, and Viktor involuntarily thrust against his mouth, a broken chant of Yuuri’s name and profanities falling from his tongue. 

Yuuri’s hands  _ finally _ starts pulling at the elastic of Viktor’s underwear and Viktor helps him along by eagerly lifting his ass from the couch, pushing both his pants and boxers down to mid thigh. His hard cock bounces free, the flushed tip  _ dripping  _ with precum. Satisfaction washes over Viktor when Yuuri’s eyes widen, male pride making his chest puff just a little as Yuuri wraps a hand around the base, measuring the girth. 

“You’re so  _ big _ ,” Yuuri moans, wonder gone and desire replacing it as he leans forward, his tongue meeting the curved underside of Viktor’s cock. 

“Do you want it Yuuri?” Viktor asks, his hand taking a strong grip on Yuuri’s still wet hair, “do you want my  _ big _ cock?”

Yuuri  _ keens _ . 

_ “Yes.” _

Viktor groans and jerks Yuuri’s head forward, covering his pretty, red lips with precum. Yuuri licks the clear, salty liquid away, his eyes closed, savoring the taste. The sated, naughty smile that stretched on Yuuri’s lips has the Russian man holding back another embarrassing sound, and instead he rolls his hips, nudging the leaking tip of his cock against the mouth he couldn’t  _ wait  _ to get inside of. And Yuuri is  _ so good _ to him, granting his wish without ado. 

“ _ Gospodi _ , Yuu _ riii _ ,” Viktor moans as Yuuri’s mouth stretches around his tip, the wet heat driving all of his thoughts away, the only thing remaining being how he wanted  _ more _ . It was clear Yuuri was a generous soul, because Viktor didn’t even have to  _ ask _ before Yuuri sank deeper, the back of his throat flexing as he took all of Viktor in, moaning around the stiff length. Viktor’s thighs quivers, and his fingers tighten in Yuuri’s hair, holding him down, grinding into the soft, hot cavern. Broken moans leaves him as Yuuri starts sucking, bobbing his head ever so slightly, as much as the grip on his head will allow. Tiny little breaths tickle Viktor’s lower stomach every time Yuuri’s lips reaches the base, suppressed moans, as if  _ he _ was the one being pleasured. 

Viktor fights the urge to close his eyes, to revel in only the  _ feeling _ of Yuuri’s throat around him. But Yuuri is gorgeous; too beautiful to avert his gaze from, especially when his cheeks turn a deep red and his glasses slightly askew over his long lashes. One of Yuuri’s hands leaves it’s place at Viktor’s groin, instead fiddling with something in his robe, before slicked fingers reach behind himself and  _ oh god  _ he’s going to—

“Yuuri,  _ stop _ ,” Viktor hisses, tugging at Yuuri’s hair, biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself from cumming when Yuuri whines in protest. It takes another, rougher, pull for Yuuri to obey, his lips closely following the shape of Viktor’s cock as he pulls away, a thick string of saliva and precum dripping down his chin when he looks up. 

“Is something wrong?” Viktor groans at the thoroughly  _ fucked _ rasp in Yuuri’s voice. 

“Let me open you up,” Viktor wants to sound demanding, but it comes out as a plea to  _ please let him.  _

Yuuri’s eyes widen a fraction, and he looks unsure. He probably isn’t used to his patrons wanting to service  _ him _ . 

Viktor couldn't think of anything he wanted more. 

“Come here, Yuuri,” Viktor pats his thighs, eyes greedily racking over the other’s body as he stands up. 

After wiping his lubricated hand on his bathrobe Yuuri reached for the belt, teasing the simple knot open, but not letting the robe fall to the side. Instead he holds it and edges it of his shoulders, and Viktor’s tongue darts out to wet his lips as he follow the reveal of every inch of soft skin. Viktor wants to reach out and touch, to drag Yuuri back to him, but he restrains himself, waiting with thin patience. 

“Should I face you or…?” Yuuri asks, his stripping stopping just as Viktor could peek the dark area around his nipples over the edge of the bathrobe. 

Even if the image of seeing Yuuri’s back muscles rippling as he fucks himself on Viktor’s fingers is an enticing one, Viktor doesn’t doubt. It’s a stupid question, really. 

“I want you to look at me,” Viktor says and reaches out, “all night.”

Yuuri’s cheeks redden, and Viktor can’t help but to find it extremely cute as Yuuri takes his outstretched hand, letting Viktor pull him into his lap. 

The robe falls to the floor as Yuuri sets one knee on the sofa, and Viktor hums appreciatively as Yuuri straddles him. His body is fit, with just a little bit of extra fat sitting on his hips, but it wasn’t noticeable unless they were  _ this _ close. His hands finds the cushioned bone, guiding Yuuri to sit on his lap. Their hard dicks brush together, and they both moan, and Yuuri does it again, slowly rolling his hips so their swollen tips slides together, and his breath comes out in stutters as he searches for Viktor’s approval. There is not a single doubt in Viktor’s lust hazed mind. 

_ You’re beautiful.  _

Viktor thinks it, but the words doesn’t find their way to his tongue, not before he can’t help himself and lean forward, kissing Yuuri’s chest, the pink nipple hardening when he blows cold air after his warm lips leaves it. Yuuri leans in and shudders against him, his thick thighs a pleasant weight on Viktor’s own. His hands leaves Yuuri’s hips, stroking behind, feeling the little dimples at the small of the dancer’s back, before his fingers goes lower, over soft flesh and cups Yuuri’s ass. A soft gasp flutters his hair and Viktor takes his sweet time in feeling the large muscles yield and tense against his palms. 

“H-here, use this,” Yuuri whispers and holds something between them; a bottle of lube as Viktor finds out when he reluctantly releases the pink bud he’d taken between his teeth. 

Viktor quickly coats his fingers with the sticky fluid, mumbling a quick sorry against soft skin when his cold fingers dip into the crease of Yuuri’s ass. He feels the puckered entrance, and coos softly into Yuuri’s ear to help him relax, one slick finger diving inside when the muscles yield. Yuuri moans when Viktor’s finger is knuckle-deep inside him, ass wiggling just a little as he searches for more sensations. 

With a kiss to an exposed neck, Viktor pulls Yuuri closer, pressing them flush against each other, cocks grinding together between their stomachs while Viktor works Yuuri’s entrance. The dancer keens in appreciation at Viktor’s patience, his lips finding Viktor’s neck and mouthing loud, hot kisses all over the skin. He sighs lowly when a second finger joins the first, and Viktor shudders when teeth graze against his pulse. He doesn’t say, but he’d  _ love _ for Yuuri to put a mark there. 

He’d love to have matching marks, actually. 

Though he doesn’t act on the desire, instead spreading his fingers  _ just _ a little too much for a second, and Yuuri jerks against him. Viktor revels in the reaction, especially when Yuuri’s hand bunches in his shirt, pulling. 

“Do you like it when I’m rough on you, Yuuri?” Viktor whispers against the other’s ear, his voice too breathy to be truly dominating. 

Yuuri whimpers, “only a little…”

Viktor hugs Yuuri close with the hand that isn’t occupied, heart swelling with how  _ adorable  _ and  _ sexy _ this man could be all in one moment. 

“I-I can take more,” Yuuri promises against Viktor’s neck then, grinding his ass down, “ _ hurry _ ,  Viktor.”

Viktor obeys—how can he not, when Yuuri sounds so deliciously desperate—and stretches Yuuri with three fingers, going a bit too fast for his own liking, but Yuuri whimpers approvingly and rocks his hips. Viktor doesn’t like it when one of Yuuri’s hands leaves his shoulder, and he  _ hates _ when Yuuri leans away, curling his fingers inside him as warning. 

“Mm _ mmnah! _ V-V _ iktor! _ ” Yuuri moans, eyes glistening with unshed tears of intense sensations, “i-it feels  _ g-good. _ ”

Without a word Viktor pulls his fingers out, and before Yuuri can finish his complaining whine, Viktor has him on his back, pressed into the sofa. 

“Yuuri,  _ Yuuri _ ,” Viktor groans before he kisses Yuuri again, their pleasured noises mingling with the wet noises of their lips as Viktor rocks Yuuri’s body with his hips. Yuuri pliantly spreads his legs, his feet bumping against the backside of Viktor’s calves, thighs shaking for the effort to not squeeze around Viktor. 

“H-hurry, please,  _ please _ ,” Yuuri whines between kisses, his hand sneaking down to tickle through the platinum hairs above Viktor’s cock. 

Viktor shivers, kissing Yuuri one last time before he leans back, enjoying the sight beneath him. How someone could look so blissfully fucked out before the foreplay was even over was a mystery, and one Viktor didn’t mind leaving unsolved. 

He couldn’t wait to thoroughly make Yuuri come  _ undone _ .

Viktor sets a hand on Yuuri’s knee, pushing them further spread, before he positioned the head his cock to Yuuri’s soft, twitching entrance. 

“Do you want me, Yuuri?” Viktor asks again, only because he  _ loves _ hearing Yuuri  _ beg _ for it. A drug he wouldn’t mind getting hooked on. 

“ _ Yes! _ Please, Viktor!” Yuuri gasps, his toes curling against Viktor’s skin. 

“ _ Good _ ,” Viktor smiles and pushes, moaning as Yuuri’s soft heat yields to his hard length. 

Yuuri looks like poetry in physical form as he accept Viktor inside him, his back arching, chest pouty and torso glistening with sweat. His hands claw against the sofa, mouth open and lips shining around the pretty little noises he makes as he writhes. His eyes are closed, but Viktor doesn’t mind because when they open again Yuuri looks so  _ soft _ , like he had been blessed, like he has never been so happy in his life. 

Viktor likes it. So much his heart clench. 

“Don’t you want to move?” Yuuri asks, his hand coming up to pull off Viktor’s tie completely, daint fingers sneaking under the collar of his shirt. 

“Are you ready?” Viktor chokes out, and Yuuri looks surprised before he smiles. 

“ _ Yes. _ ”

Viktor surprises himself with his ability to hold back, rolling his hips slowly, watching as Yuuri matches his movements, bliss on his face each time Viktor pushes inside. His glasses are skewed, and Viktor fixes them in place before he once more claims Yuuri’s lips in a kiss. 

They move slowly, both their mouths and hips, but when Yuuri’s hand tugs on Viktors hair he moans and jerks, pushing much harder than before. The deliciously surprised yelp that Viktor swallows sends shivers down his body and he does it again. Yuuri makes that noise once more, nails scraping against Viktor’s nape. 

“Yuu— _ mmhaa—riii _ ,” Viktor murmurs between kisses, singing Yuuri’s name to the stars above with praise and appreciative profanities in his native tongue. Yuuri mirrors it, and Viktor doesn’t understand one iota, but he likes it, likes the slur and smacks of their lips that makes Yuuri’s voice break as he whispers drawn-out syllables and hooks his legs around Viktor. 

After the harder thrusts Viktor goes faster, egged on how Yuuri’s hand, his legs, his lips, his  _ everything _ gripped harder around Viktor. Even through his shirt he could feel how his back would be marred red in the morning, and he wanted Yuuri to have the same reminder. 

Yuuri whined in protest when Viktor’s mouth moved away from his, but it was quickly switched for a pleased purr when Viktor’s teeth sank into the skin of the dancer’s throat. He felt Yuuri’s wild pulse through his lips, sucking, leaving a mark that would remind Yuuri each time he looked in the mirror of  _ this _ . 

“V-Vik— _ oh _ ,” Yuuri mewled, his hands digging into Viktor’s biceps, “t-there,  _ there! _ ”

“H-here?” Viktor snaps his hips forward, and Yuuri’s back arches into him, “that’s where you like it,  _ Yuuri _ ?” 

Yuuri nods frantically, head thrown back, eyes closed and mouth open around his pleasured sounds. Viktor smiles and wraps his arms around him, pressing Yuuri closer to him, their sweaty bodies grinding together as Viktor fucks Yuuri,  _ hard.  _ Yuuri helps him, his strong, toned legs making Viktor thrust hard, almost violently, into Yuuri. Viktor doesn’t care that he’s being rough, Yuuri  _ wants it _ , and Viktor will give it to him. 

In this moment Yuuri could ask for anything, and Viktor would give him all he had. 

But the only thing that rolls off Yuuri’s tongue is Viktor’s name. 

“Viktor, Vik- _ tor, Viktor! _ ” Yuuri gasps, each call breathier, darker, and Viktor feels Yuuri tightening around him. 

“Are you cumming Yuuri?” Viktor asks and Yuuri can’t answer, not when he is breathing so hard and throwing his head from side to side, “come on, Yuuri, cum for me.”

With a sob that turns into a scream, Yuuri embraces Viktor, holding him tight as his ass clamps down on Viktor’s cock. Yuuri rides his orgasm, pumping himself against Viktor as he locks him in place with his legs, and it’s all too much. Viktor kisses against Yuuri’s collarbones turn to open mouthed pants for breath as he cums, his hips trying to rock him deeper, deeper,  _ deeper _ —

Viktor realizes now, far too late, that he should have wore a condom, but also finds himself accepting of any consequences as Yuuri turns limp beneath him, and dragging Viktor with him. The listless post-orgasm doesn’t last long however, because Viktor can feel fingers dragging calming patterns on the back of his shoulders, and he moans contently.

Getting up on his elbows, Viktor stares down at Yuuri’s  _ amazing _ expression; cheeks rose red, lips swollen and dark from the abuse Viktor’s lips had subjected them too, and eyes soft with satisfaction. 

Viktor wonders if it’s inappropriate to kiss when the sex was supposed to be over, but he didn’t care about proper etiquette right now. He leans down, and Yuuri meets him eagerly, albeit softly. They’re both spent, and the kiss they share is so much gentler than their previous ones, and Viktor finds that he likes this one best. 

Far too soon though, Yuuri groans in discomfort, the endorphin high ending and arousal subsiding, and hypersensitivity taking its place. Viktor reluctantly pulls out and puts on his underwear and pants again, having to break the kiss in order to do so. Yuuri also takes this chance to sit up and reach for his bathrobe on the floor, putting it on. Then he doesn’t do anything, merely waits for Viktor to finish buttoning his shirt. 

It was a bit awkward, now that the heat had cooled and they were left with the aftermath. Though when Viktor had buttoned the last button and turned to Yuuri, to try and say something, Yuuri laid something around his neck. It was his tie, and Viktor felt his cheeks heat when Yuuri started tying the knot, tightening it when he was done and smoothing the tail down Viktor’s torso. 

“There, presentable once more,” Yuuri smiled, but it was a guarded one, “you can’t go out of here a mess, after all.”

Ah, Yuuri thought Viktor would want to treat this as a heated rendezvous, to never be remembered or repeated. 

Viktor wanted to shake his head and tell Yuuri that he’d very much like to leave as a mess, and tell the world about the mind blowing sex, while he was at it. He didn’t though, instead taking a gentle hold on Yuuri’s hand where it had rested on the tip of his tie against his stomach. He digs in his pocket, finding the small metal case he always had on his person, flipping it open and fiddling to get one of his contact cards out. When he succeeds he places it in Yuuri’s hand, along with the bunch of money Chris had given him before. 

“I want to come back,” Viktor says, tracing soft circles on Yuuri’s wrist, “will you let me?”

Yuuri stares at the card in his hand before whipping his head up to meet Viktor’s gaze. It’s obvious he is searching for some kind of answer, and Viktor wishes he’d  _ ask _ , because he would answer. 

But Yuuri finds the answer on his own, a tentative smile pulling the corners of his mouth up, “I’d like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me if you liked it, or if you have any specific kink you want included, since I'm always open for suggestions.


End file.
